


like a freight train

by hayvocado



Series: Prompto/Reader: Idiots in Love [3]
Category: Final Fantasy, Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anxiety Disorder, Cute Boys Are My Coping Mechanism, F/M, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, Prompto Argentum is a Ray of Sunshine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-15 20:36:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28944537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hayvocado/pseuds/hayvocado
Summary: Prompto comes home to you having a panic attack and does for you what he knows he needed every time he's ever been in the same spot.
Relationships: Prompto Argentum/Reader
Series: Prompto/Reader: Idiots in Love [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2102646
Comments: 2
Kudos: 25





	like a freight train

**Author's Note:**

> this was complete self-indulgence. sigh. i could just really use a prompto right now ;_;

Fucking panic attacks. They hit like invisible freight trains: out of nowhere and hard as hell.

You’ve been sat on your boyfriend’s couch, caught up in one of these train wrecks for what feels like eons but what’s probably actually only been an hour or so. You aren’t entirely sure what caused it, the last thing you remember you were downloading your favorite game that you’ve been waiting all week to play, and then it crashed and triggered an entire domino effect of emotional responses. 

Realistically, you know that it was probably a buildup of many things but,  _ apparently,  _ corrupted save data was your fragile mind’s final straw.

You’re curled up on the sofa trying your damnedest to regulate your breathing and stop your hands from shaking, and it’s only just starting to work when you hear the telltale signs of your boyfriend coming home from work. Keys jangle in the door and you vaguely register the sound of rummaging as Prompto bumbles through the door, weighed down by his rucksack, camera case, and some takeout bags.

“Guess who got his chocobabe some of her favorite snacks from the bakery today?!” His bright voice calls out to you, but you barely hear him. 

He hasn’t turned the corner into the living room yet, so he hasn’t seen you and gods, you  _ really  _ don’t want him to see you like this. The thought of it is apparently enough for a fresh wave of anxiety to start suffocating you. Your breathing speeds up again, your chest burns worse, your eyes unfocus, and you’re too choked up to say anything back, but then he’s talking some more.

“‘Scuse me, ma’am, where’s my thanks for being the awesomest boyfriend on Eos—” his smile drops and his bags follow as he finally moves from the entryway and his eyes land on you. For a second he just stands there, violet gaze terrified as he takes in your state, but then he’s moving too fast for you to process it. In an instant, he’s crouched in front of you, hands cupping your cheeks, thumbs wiping away the tears collecting under your eyes.

“Hey, hey, what happened? Are you okay?” His voice is quiet, but it feels too loud at the same time, and you just shake your head, overwhelmed. He frowns and moves closer, into your line of sight. “What hurts?” You somehow summon the strength to unclench your fists and point at your chest, still too breathless to speak. His frown only deepens as he tries to understand, and you could swear you see the buffering symbol above his head, but then it clicks. 

“Panic attack?” 

You nod, fat tears leaking down your face.

“Okay, panic attack, I know those,” he breathes, moving to sit next to you on the couch and gently maneuvering you until you’re curled up in his lap. 

You instinctively tuck up into his chest, face hidden in the junction of his neck and shoulder. He wraps you up so tight that you can feel his heartbeat and every breath he takes and you try and match his rhythm to calm yourself down. He must realize what you’re doing because he starts to take slower, more intentional deep breaths to lead you away from hyperventilation. He rests his cheek against the top of your head and you hear him mumbling words of comfort, though you can’t make any of them out. It hardly matters though, because the feeling of his breath and the vibration of his voice is all you need to be brought back down to Eos.

The two of you sit like that for a few minutes, you breathing in his scent and letting the familiarity swim around you until you can finally process all five of your senses.

“Ungh,” you groan once you have your bearings back. A headache is beginning to settle behind your eyes and your muscles are heavy with exhaustion. You shift around in Prompto’s lap, leaning back. When you make eye contact with him, your cheeks grow hot in embarrassment and you look away. 

Unbothered, Prompto presses a kiss to your forehead, “Is it better?” You nod and hum in the affirmative. “Good, I’m glad... What do you need me to do?”

“N-nothing,” your voice cracks and you cringe, “Sorry, um… sorry I don’t know what that was.” 

You’re trying to move off of his lap, a blush creeping to your ears when you realize you were literally in the fetal position sobbing on your boyfriend’s lap.  _ Talk about humiliating, gods. _

“Hey,” he pets the back of your head, his voice soft. “Don’t apologize. You can’t help anxiety, I get it.” His tone is so gentle you almost want to cry again but you ignore the urge and shake your head.

“Yeah, I guess. Still, um… sorry.” 

You can’t look at him, but you feel his eyes heavy on you. Your gaze stays fixed on the carpet as you finish scooting off of Prompto’s lap and to the side. You hear a quiet sigh come from him, and then the shifting of fabric as he stands and moves back into his bedroom.

That icky burning sensation crawls back into your lungs when you feel Prom’s body heat leave your side, shame overtaking you. Of  _ course, _ he’d get up and leave like that, you probably freaked him out and you no-doubt look awful right now. He must think you’re completely unhinged now. You hiccup and swipe harshly at your face as you try and think up an escape route. Maybe you can say you’re staying over at Iris’ for the night, give him some space away from your crazy so he can think of the best way to break up with you—

“Where are you going?”

That soft voice of his sounds from the hall behind you and you whip around to face your boyfriend. He has a pile of clothes in his arms and he sets them down on the end of the couch as he moves towards you, a concerned frown on his pretty face.

“You look like you’re fleeing, what happened?”

You clear your throat and avoid his eyes, “I was gonna—sorry, I didn’t think you wanted me to stick around after, uhm… all of that?” It isn’t meant to be a question but your voice ticks up at the end anyway.

“What?” he gasps, “You thought I was—oh my god, babe, no! No, I’m sorry, I was getting you—shit, okay,” he huffs and grabs up the clothes he’d set down just moments before, a frustrated blush eclipsing his freckles. “This hoodie is my coziest one and you said you liked my fluffy socks, I grabbed these so you could get comfy and we could cuddle or something. Y’know... to help you f-feel better.” 

He stutters to a stop and scratches the back of his head nervously before speaking all in a rush.

“When I was younger my anxiety used to be really bad too, and I had panic attacks like every other day and it  _ sucked, _ like, super big time. It’s not a science or anything, but I always would just put on my favorite pajamas and grab my weighted blanket and just do anything that would give me a serotonin boost. I never had anyone around to cuddle me or anything, but I know if I had, that would’ve been what I needed, y’know? So I was… I wanted to do that for you? If that’s okay?”

Your jaw drops and your heart skips a few beats, then picks it back up in double time. For a second you worry that it’s another panic attack but then you realize that no, now you’re overwhelmed with love, not anxiety. 

“Prom,” you whisper, voice thick with emotion.

He sniffs, “I wasn’t trying to run from you or anything, I should’ve said something, I’m sorry.” Those big puppy eyes of his glitter with specks of blue and lavender as he stares at you.

You shake your head and swoop in to hug him tight around the waist, burying your face in his chest. You’re seriously not trying to cry again, but you don’t know if you can help it, he’s just—

“You’re the best,” you mumble into the material of Prompto’s shirt. He laughs breathlessly and hugs you back.

“Well, you deserve the best. Now go get changed so we can watch that movie you told me about.”

You lean back and stare up at him for a few seconds, just admiring this perfect thing the gods decided to gift you with—for reasons you could ever fathom, they somehow deemed you worthy of receiving such a blessing. Maybe you’ll start remembering to pray to them from here on out. A goofy smile takes over Prom’s face and he dives in to kiss the tip of your nose gently before patting your butt to urge you on.

“Hustle, now,” he says, a false stern tone in his voice.

You giggle and nod, taking the clothes from him and moving down the hall towards the bathroom. Before closing the door, you poke your head back out.

“Hey,” you call out. Blond fluffy hair pops around the corner and his expectant gaze meets yours. 

“Yeah, beautiful?”

You flush at the nickname but smile back regardless.

“I love you.”

That adorable crooked smile dons his face and you’re blinded by how bright it is.

“Me you more.”

**Author's Note:**

> this was written because i lost about 150hrs of game progress today because my roommate's ps4 hates me and decided to eat my save data and not give it back. aka i'm probably going to have to replay ffxv from scratch and i've been distraught all day bc of it


End file.
